Introduction to Love
by Her Pretty Smile
Summary: —AU. She doesn't know anything about love. She doesn't know how it feels or even how it works. She's innocent and sweet and so, so dense that he finally gives in and decides to sweep her off her feet. NatsuღLucy. [Ongoing]
1. ღthe first signღ

**Introduction to Love**

by Her Pretty Smile

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**Synopsis: **AU. She doesn't know anything about love. She doesn't know how it feels or even how it works. She's innocent and sweet and so, so dense that he finally gives in and decides to sweep her off her feet. Natsu/Lucy. [Ongoing]

**Warning:** Unbeta-ed; may contain errors or any of the sort. Also, the storyline may be a bit deep and confusing. Beware of alternate POVs and a slightly OOC Natsu (sorry guys, I made him kind of dark here… which suits him, by the way :3)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fairy Tail nor its characters.

**IMPORTANT NOTE:** This is a fic with alternate POVs. Meaning, the first POV will be Natsu's, then the next will be Lucy's._ Alternate_.

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_This is a story about a princess who has zero awareness of love. But then, as time passes, she starts to experience these weird, tingly feelings which causes her to become confused._

_Her supposed 'prince charming', on the other hand, is the one who notices her predicament, but being the uncaring, indifferent guy he is, he chooses to ignore it. However, he knows deep inside that he, too, is falling in love with her, but denies it profusely. Until one day…_

…_he decides to give in to his suppressed desires._

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**Sign #1**

"It's the unnatural—or rather, _unusual—_compulsion that draws you towards him even if it's very, very slight."

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HE STARES AT HER face discreetly from a distance, noting the flecks of amber in her eyes that are being reflected by the sun and the golden rays of the latter surrounding the upper part of her body like a halo. Her lips are parted slightly as she strains to listen to the quiet murmurs of her blue-haired best friend who is in front of her, and he can't help but again notice her innocence, her fragile, delicate vibe, and her honesty that seems to shine through in the darkness of the world.

His jaw clenches as he feels the annoyance creep up on him again, swallowing him up and leaving nothing behind, not even a residue.

_Why am I like this?_ he thinks, irritated. _She's just a stranger._

But she isn't. He knows deep inside that she isn't.

Lucy Heartfilia is a classmate of his ever since grade school. They never spoke to each other and they didn't seem to acknowledge each other's presence.

That is, until now.

He thinks back to the time when they first interacted.

It was about a week ago in the bustling hallway, and he'd seen that her eyes were unfocused and that her walk seemed unsteady. He had an inkling as to why, but he wasn't really sure if he was correct.

His answer came when she suddenly wobbled, causing her to drop one of her books to the ground. She bent to pick it up, but she lost her balance and she could've hit her head straight on the marbled floor if it weren't for him and his quick reflexes.

He'd dashed over to her and roughly took her by the waist, causing her disoriented eyes to look up at him as she spun around to face him. He stared back practiced nonchalance, because on the inside he was panicking slightly for her skin felt very hot to the touch; he guessed that her neck and forehead should be burning up, too, though just a bit more.

At that moment, he vaguely noticed that he's exactly a head taller than her and that she'd looked so vulnerable and so open that he wanted to—

Adjusting himself into a better position and shrugging off insignificant thoughts, he steadied her with a gentleness in him that he hadn't known existed. Then, after absently tucking a long strand of her hair behind her ear, he left her there without saying a word.

She was a stranger, after all.

But now she isn't. And, if he thinks about it deeply, she never really is. She's his classmate—the beautiful, quiet, intelligent, and sophisticated princess of their class.

Then his thoughts travel towards their second interaction.

Three days ago, she tripped—an ungraceful, un-princess-like action—and fell on him—he'd been scouring the halls for his idiotic friend—and then, acting purely on reflex, he grabbed a hold of her wrists, preventing her from tackling them both unceremoniously to the ground. He knew that he was strong enough to hold his ground, so her head had only hit his chest. _Hard_.

And boy, did it _hurt_.

After his short moment of disorientation, he blinked and saw that her hair was splayed out behind her and that some of it was on his upper arms, tickling his skin. Abruptly, he let go of her, and she'd stared at him like his eyes were so fathomless that she got lost inside them.

"I—thanks," she fumbled, averting her gaze and turning her heel and running off to nowhere.

He knew that she was only embarrassed, so he'd shrugged her weird actions off as nothing.

But now, he knows that it wasn't nothing at all. The way she acted was a sign, and he'd failed to notice it. He knows that he himself is falling into the same deep ravine as her, but at least he's aware of it, unlike her.

She's just so stupid and dense and innocent and infuriating—

He stops his train of thought right there before his thoughts of her can drive him insane.

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SHE ISN'T PAYING MUCH attention to what her best friend is saying, that's for sure.

Levy, apparently having noticed this, arches an eyebrow. "Earth to Lucyyyy," she drawls, stretching her name like a hiss, but not unkindly. "What's up? It's like you're in a far, far away galaxy where I can't reach you. What are you thinking about?"

Said person smiles absently in turn which makes Levy look at her skeptically.

The latter, figuring that her best friend needs some time alone, lets out a sigh. "Well, I need to go. The student council president needs me after school so that we can work on some matters involving the school." Levy turns to go.

Chocolate-brown eyes fill with sincere apology. "I'm sorry… I'll tell you all about it later, Levy."

She watches with guilt blooming in her chest as her best friend smiles in understanding and dashes off, leaving a trail of silver glitter from her new expensive, exquisitely-made powder and the scent of flowers mixed with orange. It's a weird combination, but nice nonetheless.

She turns her head and suddenly catches sight of him taking out his camera. At that moment, she feels odd, like a cold but lovely breeze is tickling her skin and also like her whole body is glued to her current position.

She watches as he starts to take subtle pictures of the lake. Their school, Victoria Academy, had been built beside it, and it serves as a trademark. The water there is sparkling and glittering like millions of shattered diamonds, and the calmness of it is in a away reassuring and comfortable.

She watches him in fascination and feels compelled to walk up to him and say something. Or, if not, just stare at those bottomless onyx pools which had once caught her in their grasp and pulled her close, so close—

She blinks in surprise. _Where are all these weird thoughts coming from_? And the foreign feeling building up in the pit of her stomach is driving her curiosity and interest upwards at the speed of a gunshot.

She knows that he has been her classmate ever since she was nine, but she never knew him, never even knew his name. It's like he was just a passing wind; everyone knew that he was there, but at the same time, he was invisible to them.

But now that's changed.

He's become nice-looking, and his features are mature and he has a good build. He's a head taller than her, and he's a bit of a quiet person. Keeps to himself, mostly, and indulges in his hobby which he is undeniably good at—_photography_. He's sort of an enigma; one second he's all serious and unapproachable, and the next his face softens a little bit as he talks around with his friends.

He's mysterious and appealing. Why had she never noticed him before?

But deep inside her mind, she knows the answer.

It wasn't that he wasn't eye-catching before as he is now, but because he'd never acknowledged her.

Now she wants to go up to him and try to be friends, but her shyness eventually takes over and she shrinks away, willing her mind to be preoccupied with other things.

But her thoughts keep drifting towards the way his rough hands had held her, the way his clothes had smelled, and the way the wind occasionally blows some of his hair in a gentle, quiet motion.

She bites her lower lip unconsciously, thinking that she has gone terribly insane.

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**END**

to be continued

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**Authoress' Note:** Well? Was it interesting, or was it hard to understand? Oh well. I'll revise this when it's completed, anyway. :D


	2. ღthe second signღ

**Introduction to Love**

by Her Pretty Smile

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**A/N:** Thank you for the feedback. I really appreciate it! :) So here's chapter two. Enjoy.

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**Sign #2**

"The phrases 'you can't stop thinking about him' and 'you just want to see him even if it's just once in a day' aren't just mere phrases."

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HE PLACES HIS NEW, expensive headphones against his ears, the intro of the song 'Home' by Daughtry pumping into his mind as he stares blankly up at the sky.

His school, Victoria Academy, is a royal, prestigious school. The students can do whatever they want as long as it's free period. Since the students learning there are all from royal families, they have the power to manipulate certain cycles.

He thinks that it's a disgusting habit.

Slouching against the hard, smooth texture of the bench, he lets the music relax his mind. The cool breeze gently brushes against his skin, and his eyes slowly close, the darkness overwhelming his vision and soon enough he drifts off into a silent slumber.

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SHE PACES AROUND THE room, wondering why she can't get him out of her mind. Sure, he's mysterious and fascinating, but surely he shouldn't be on her mind every second of the day. It's not… _normal_.

_It's ridiculous_, she thinks calmly though her mind is in turmoil. _I don't even know his name._

She doesn't know what this feeling is, and it scares her. They had just interacted two times and then something foreign had built itself inside of her.

And for some reason she can't comprehend, the feeling is just so warm and fuzzy that sometimes she doesn't mind.

She ponders for a moment, wondering if it's just an illness of some sort.

_It's possible_, her rational mind echoes inside her. _You almost had the flu a week ago. It must've disoriented your senses temporarily._

_It'll fade over time._

"Heartfilia?" Gray's familiar warm voice sends a wave of tingling sensations throughout her body.

"Quit calling me that," she says, though her voice holds a tinge of playfulness within it. "Just call me Lucy already."

"Oh, but I shouldn't, Princess Heartfilia," Gray says in a mock-shocked voice, "since you _are_ going to be the next Queen of this country."

She cringes. "Don't remind me."

Gray's expression turns serious for once. "You still hate it?"

"Hate what?"

"Being pressured to do something you don't want to do," Gray replies simply.

"…Yeah."

"…You need some kind of outlet?"

"Elaborate, please."

"Geez, you sound like a ninety-year-old Queen—_ow_! Hey!" Gray clutches his left arm which she'd hit in pain. "I didn't mean _this_ kind of outlet!"

She laughs heartily. "I know." With a regal air, she walks closer to him then stops just as she is right in front of him. "Thank you, Gray. I really need to let it all out."

"Then take it all out on me."

"Right." She lifts up her gold-silver-and-black necklace with glittery gems and diamonds all over the cursive H pendant and grins.

"_I challenge you, Prince Gray_."

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HE WAKES UP AT the sound of two metals clanging against each other.

Sitting up into a more comfortable position, he tunes in to the music that is blaring softly from his headphones. He can make out the tune of the song 'She's the One' by Robbie Williams before he hears the sound again.

_The clanging of metal against metal._

He takes off his headphones, annoyance showing on his once-serene face. His eyes dart around his surroundings, looking for the source.

After a few seconds, he finds it and his eyes grow wide in surprise.

It's _her_.

She's wearing a white chiffon gown with lace cuffs and with white ribbons, laces, and some diamonds surrounding the fabric. The dress clings tightly to the shape of her upper body, and he can't help but think that she looks amazing.

He also knows what that gown is used for.

In the Academy, the girls are required to wear gowns like that when they are fencing. The boys, on the other hand, are required to wear black formal suits.

He wonders who challenged first. Was it Lucy, or was it Gray?

But he isn't interested in answering that question and instead watches silently as she wields the thin sword expertly and brandishes it towards her opponent. Her movements are graceful and poised and her offenses are refined and confident.

_As expected of the best fencer in the Academy_, he thinks wryly.

His eyes then travel over to Gray whose swordsmanship skills are only second best in the school.

He furrows his eyebrows. _And I hold the very last place. Great_, he thinks dryly.

He watches them go at each other once more, particularly at her, before placing his headphones back on.

And then he hears a part of the lyrics that makes him go numb.

'_She's the one_…'

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SHE'D NEVER WANTED TO spar with Gray in the garden.

It was because she saw him sleeping peacefully on the bench, his face serene and his features soft. At that moment, her hands tingled; she wanted to touch him, to touch his cheek, to feel the soft contours of his face—

"This is the best place," Gray interrupted, shattering her thoughts as he unsheathed his sword.

_I must be going crazy_, she thought, biting her lower lip. _Why am I like this?_

"Lucy." Gray's voice snapped her back to reality once again. "Let's begin."

She whirled around to face him. "Wait. I think it's better if—"

It was too late.

He'd charged towards her and struck at her, but she parried his sword with her own and forced him back.

"I wasn't ready yet, idiot," she protested. "It took me some time to draw my sword!"

Gray grinned. "You challenged me, princess, and a challenge is what you get."

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**END**

to be continued

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**A/N:** I'm not particularly satisfied with this chapter, and I know you are, too. But I promise that the next chapter's going to be far better than this one. :3


	3. ღthe third signღ

**Introduction to Love**

by Her Pretty Smile

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**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fairy Tail.

**A/N: **To a reviewer, Hikari, the country has purposefully been unnamed because it will be mentioned in the later chapters. However, since it has no relevance or significant importance to the story at all, I will tell you. It's in Japan, of course, but since this is a story of fiction, I created an Academy where princes and princesses learn their required lessons and etiquettes. I also made Japan a country where there are such people living there. :) Also, as for the POV, I will clarify it in the first chapter. Thank you for your suggestion. I really appreciate it.

Now let's go on with the story.

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**Sign #3**

"You care about him. You love everything, even his flaws, and you will always want to touch, comfort, and say anything just to make him feel better. If he's in trouble, you want to save him no matter what it takes."

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HE CHOKES AND TRIES to breathe evenly, but he can't seem to.

"Oh, baby, what's wrong?" his mother exclaims affectionately with concern in her voice as she rushes up to him, her eyes frantic.

"Mom, I'm—" He gasps, his throat closing up. "—_all right_. I brought… my inhaler. I need… I need to go." And he runs off with no intention of turning back.

He can still hear his mother's voice echoing in his ears.

"_Wait_! Sweetheart, _please_! You don't have to force yourself—_Your chauffeur's here_! He can take you—"

He does not stop until he can't hear his mother anymore and also until he sees the familiar view of the Victoria Academy building. Skidding to a stop, he gasps heavily for breath. He feels as if his air supply has been cut off, and he frantically searches his bag for that _damn_ inhaler—

At that moment, he hears a soft gasp and, despite the fact that he's sweating profusely and wearing a vulnerable mask of panic, he lifts his head to look up at the source and finds himself gazing into pools of amber and chocolate-brown and dark shades of the same colour ringed around the pupils.

"A—Are you all right?" Her voice snaps him out of his trance, and he jerks so violently that she flinches and backs away.

"…_Go_," he says monotonously, though it's hard to speak when you can't breathe very well.

She, ever the perceptive one, notices this particular fact and defiance flashes across her eyes. "_No way_ am I going to just leave you alone here." She peers at him closely. "You… have _asthma_… don't you?"

"None of your business," he snaps, though he slightly regrets saying what he'd just said.

She looks hurt for a moment and he winces inwardly, knowing very well that it's _him_ who caused that expression to appear on her face.

"Well, since I saw you in this state, it very well makes it _my_ business, too," she says in a surprisingly determined voice that makes him blink in mild astonishment. "Now, where's your inhaler?"

His throat still feels like it's closed up, but he can still breathe, albeit shallowly. His fingers stumbling, he finally takes a hold of his inhaler and he takes it out of the bag. Hastily, he takes off the cap and shakes it before he breathes in slowly through his mouth.

After a few minutes, he eventually feels better, and as he finishes, he feels the sweeping sensation of relief washing over him like a tide.

"Do you need to lie down? Drink some water, maybe?" her worried voice asks tentatively.

He hates it. He doesn't need her concern. "_I don't want anything_," he says harshly, steadying himself as he stands up straight. "I suggest that you'd better go to your classes before you get late."

"But we have the same schedule." Her brown eyes look at me imploringly, unyielding. "Let's just go together."

"You don't _know_ me," he says in irritation. "There's no need for you—or rather, _someone like you_—to help someone like me."

"But I _do_ know you," she protests mildly. "You've been my classmate since ninth grade."

"But we never really talked, did we?" He almost—emphasis on the _almost_—savours the wounded expression on her face, but then it has been replaced with guilt.

"That doesn't change the fact that I care about you," she says bluntly and innocently, seemingly unaware of the possible implication of her words.

He flinches visibly, surprise taking its toll on him. "_Like I said_," he says evenly, "you and I _don't know each other_, Princess. Why should you care? You don't even know my name."

She bites her lip in frustration. "_Why_ are you so stubborn? Can't you see that I'm only trying to help?"

"I'm an independent person. Therefore, I can take care of myself. I don't need your help." He stares at her in indifference. "Also, you're going to be the next Queen anyway, so don't bother yourself with someone like me."

Pure frustration builds up in the pit of her stomach as she exclaims bitterly, "_Why_ does everyone keep reminding me of that?"

"What, about you being the next Queen?" he asks in a mocking tone. "Well, everyone knows this particular fact, so they're probably reminding you of that so that they can get into your good graces."

Something flickers in her eyes as she looks at him. "So… I assume that you are one of those people then…?"

He scoffs in mild disbelief. "Of course not."

At that, she smiles subtly. "Then what kind of person are you?"

He slings his backpack over his shoulder, all the while giving her a sidelong glance. "I'm a person who simply doesn't care about the world."

She grins at his answer, extending her hand towards him. He stares at it inquisitively.

"Let's be friends," she says softly. "_Please_?"

He stares at her as if she were insane. "I _rebuffed_ you," he drawls, bemused, "and _yet_ you want to be _friends_?"

She smiles brightly like the sun, and at that moment, the latter shines from behind her, giving her a warm, angelic glow. "_What are friends for if they don't forgive each other?_"

He stares at her again, but this time, his face softens, and to her surprise, he takes her hand in his and shakes it. The warmth of his hand sends a burning sensation through her body, and she feels her cheeks redden slightly for a reason she can't comprehend.

After what seems like an eternity to her, he lets go, and she immediately misses his warmth and starts to yearn for it.

"We _can_ be friends," he says stiffly, "but I don't make _any_ promises. Remember that, _Princess Heartfilia._"

And he turns his back on her and walks away.

He grits his teeth slightly. _Why am I being so nice to her? She's no one. _Absolutely_ no one._

_And no, I do _not_ love her._

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SHE STARES AT HIS retreating figure, unaware of her hand touching her chest but feeling the rapid beats of her racing heart.

_He knows my name._

_It's crazy. He knows my name, but I don't know his._ She bites her lower lip unconsciously, then proceeds to walk slowly behind him, gazing at his back. _He's just so mysterious, and he doesn't let anybody in his life so easily…_

_Just _who_ is he?_

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**END**

to be continued

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**A/N:** Okay, I admit, I used that friends line/quote that I made up in my other fic _The Mistress of the Universe._ Guilty as charged. :3 But it just seemed so right to put it there.

I apologize if Lucy's part was short, but it's completely necessary. After all, there's nothing more to be said.

Stay tuned for the next chapter! Thank you for the feedback, by the way. I love you guys! :)


	4. ღthe fourth signღ

**Introduction to Love**

by Her Pretty Smile

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**A/N:** Thank you for all the support, guys! To be honest, I never really dreamed that there would be so many people liking this fic, so I'm glad I posted this. So, enough rambling and let's get on to the story!

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**Sign #4**

"You feel warm whenever you're with him."

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HE STARES UP AT the approaching figure, a girl with long, wavy white hair and soft sapphire eyes that shines brightly in the sunlight. He knows who she is; she's the famous Mirajane Strauss, the beautiful princess model who won several beauty contests and also, shockingly because of her innocent-looking appearance, martial arts competitions.

He smiles ever so faintly inside; he knows that Mirajane's a really sweet person, but at the same time, she's also fierce and terrifying, so it's best not to piss her off.

He wonders what kind of business she has with him as she comes near.

"Prince Dragneel," she says in her soft, mellifluous voice as she bows formally, "may I have the honour to ask something in front of your grace?"

_And polite as always_, he thinks wryly. "Of course, Mira. And you don't really have to be so formal with me. Call me anything, but just not by my first name."

Mirajane smiles in understanding. "All right, prince. I just want to ask you if you're going to attend the Grand Ball tomorrow."

He arches an eyebrow. "The Grand Ball's tomorrow? That's fast. Well, I think I can, because I'm sure that mother and father are going to force me, anyway."

Mirajane looks satisfied. "Great. Then I'll arrange for your partner later in the files. It's a masquerade party."

He stares at her suspiciously. "Partner?"

But Mirajane only sends him a wink and disappears around the corner.

He slouches back against the bench, covering his eyes with his hand as he bends his head back. "Damn it, Mirajane."

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SHE STARES AT GRAY in surprise. "My… partner tomorrow… is…"

Gray smirks. "Yep. It's the infamous Prince Dragneel."

She peers at him curiously. "Why infamous?"

"Well, in swordsmanship, intelligence, and niceness, he's in last place."

"But he's popular, isn't he? I mean… many girls consider him… hot," she fumbles.

"Yeah, well… He's arrogant. You wouldn't want to associate yourself with him, but… Looks like you've got no choice."

She smiles at that, amused. "I think he's okay."

Gray's eyes widen slightly. "You've met him?" he asks incredulously.

"Yeah. He, uh, saved me a couple of times, though I think he regretted it every time he did it." She blushes in embarrassment.

He shrugs. "Sounds like something the Dark Prince would act."

She looks at him. "The Dark Prince?" she inquires.

"Yeah, that's his title. _The Dark Prince_. His aura's dark, his attitude's dark, he's a prince… Well, you get the idea."

"But I heard that he has a best friend. Doesn't he?"

Gray, to her surprise, smiles. "Yeah, he does," he says softly.

"Who is it?" she asks curiously.

"You're looking at him, princess."

Her eyes almost bulge out of their sockets.

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HE GROWLS IN ANNOYANCE as the tie in his suit loosens again for the third time. His hands fumble as he reaches for it, and at that moment, the door opens to reveal his father, grinning widely.

"Hey there, son. Your chauffeur's waiting, and you look good."

"Thanks, Dad," he says absently, reaching for his black-and-white mask, the colours complimenting the ones on his clothes.

After a few minutes, he finishes, and now he's on the way to the hotel where the Grand Ball is going to be held when his phone suddenly beeps.

He opens the unread message and reads it silently.

'_Hey, idiot, the ball started thirty minutes ago. Where are you? You're keeping your partner waiting.'_

He sighs and texts back a reply.

'_I'm coming, I'm coming. Who's my damn partner?'_

'_It's a secret, dude. But here's a hint: you know her.'_

The car skids to a stop, and he gets out the car door, awkwardly still trying to tighten his tie.

When he realizes that he can't seem to succeed, he lets out another sigh before proceeding to open the doors only to have someone stumble upon him. His eyes wide in surprise, he acts on reflex and grabs the person by the shoulders.

"Hey, watch where you're—"

"Sorry!"

He almost freezes in place—emphasis on the word _almost_—when he recognizes that voice.

Of course. Of course it just has to be her again, he thinks dryly. Why the hell is she so clumsy? It's like she's not a princess at all.

She looks at him with an astonished expression. "O—Oh! It's you…" she breathes out, looking mesmerized.

He raises an eyebrow. "Apparently, it seems that my hair stands out too much."

Her face flushes. "S—Sorry if I implied it so."

"Stop that."

She looks surprised and puzzled. "Stop what?"

"Stop apologizing," he replies flatly. "You're a princess, so act like one."

Her cheeks turn red in embarrassment. "R—Right. I'm sor—I mean…"

He sighs for the third time that night. This is hopeless.

After a moment, though, she seems to have regained her composure because she asks him with something shining in her eyes, "So, do you know who your partner is?"

"No," he replies succinctly. "Why?"

To his surprise, she blushes slightly, and that's the exact moment where he gets a good look at her.

She's wearing an exquisite white long gown and a red, glittery mask. Her makeup is done beautifully and her hair is held up by sparkly diamond pins with long, curly strands framing her face.

_She looks like an angel._

He blinks, and he realizes that he thinks she's beauti—

"Because I'm your partner," she says in a soft, quiet tone.

He looks at her in interest. "Really?" His voice holds a tone of amusement.

"Y—Yes," she stammers, suddenly feeling flustered.

He stares down inadvertently at her slightly trembling hands and, feeling a bit resigned, takes her hand in his.

She looks at him with a puzzled expression on her face.

He ignores the way her hands feel surprisingly smooth and warm and so nice to the touch—

"Let's go inside, then," he says, pushing his irritating thoughts into the deep recesses of his mind.

"Okay…" she says tentatively.

**x**

**x**

**x**

**x**

**x**

**x**

**x**

**x**

**x**

**x**

THE DIM LIGHTS OF the room attracts her eyes instantly and she stares in awe at the numerous, elegantly-dressed people dancing in the center. It hasn't even been long since she went out for a while to get some fresh air, and now it's the slow dance part.

"So… We're gonna have to dance, huh?" he asks quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

She turns around to look at him. "Yeah, I think so…" Her gaze then rests upon his suit.

He raises an eyebrow at this. "What's the matter?"

She doesn't say anything, but walks closer to him and grabs a hold of his tie.

"What are you—"

"Please relax," she says softly. "Your tie is loose. Let me do it for you."

He stares at her for a moment before eventually complying.

Her heart beats faster than usual at their close proximity, but she forces herself to concentrate on her tying. She can even smell his perfume and gets intoxicated by it every second.

When she finishes, she takes a step back and finds herself staring right into his dark, mesmerizing eyes.

Then, to her surprise, he takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor.

"Don't take this the wrong way," he says gruffly.

She blinks up at him, then smiles softly. "I won't."

But all night, she can't help but feel so incredibly warm whenever they touch.

And suddenly, somewhere inside her, she hopes that he feels the same way, too.

* * *

**END**

to be continued

* * *

**A/N:** This isn't the best I can do, but... oh well.


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